


What I'd Give To Be Unbroken

by Delatrista



Series: Miphvali Oneshots [3]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I sustain myself on a steady diet of angst, Mutual Pining, my apologies for any inconvenience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27947018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delatrista/pseuds/Delatrista
Summary: “Don’t startle,” he warned her.The breeze began to pick up around her as he spoke, and the chains of her jewelry clinked gently in the shifting air. His head turned back forward, and then lowered, as though he were engaging in prayer. His braids brushed against the intricate necklace at the hollow of her throat when she followed him, and pressed her chest into his frame.“Oh, and one more thing: enjoy the view.”
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Mipha/Revali (Legend of Zelda), Onesided Mipha/Link
Series: Miphvali Oneshots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046662
Comments: 8
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I reference parts of a previous Miphvali oneshot I wrote, Falling, in this, but the topic should be obscure enough that you don't have to have read it in its entirety in order to understand what's going on here. This was also previously titled Be the Water, Be All or Nothing.
> 
> I also got too carried away, so I hope you enjoy this story being split into two parts due to the sheer length I got into.

There’s a unique category of pain that accompanies every form of injury. Each type is distinct, every wound a different fingerprint pressed into a living creature to leave a lasting mark that couldn’t easily be smoothed away.

The common ones were the easiest to describe to those unfamiliar with what being a healer entailed. Burns and scorches were often the simplest to repair. Those surface-level ripples which cast across flesh in searing waves, warping and distorting everything in their path. 

Slices and cuts were deeper; they bit and stung with vicious teeth, gnawing underneath the skin. Stabs ached and pulsed while the body fought to contain the blood spilling forth. The breaking of bones cracked like lightning, a quick and sharp pain that struck without warning.

As a healer, Mipha was intimately familiar with what each form of pain looked like. She understood agony like it was a part of her very being. Whenever she called upon the water in her hands to knit together what had been broken, she could feel her patients’ hurt as if it were her own. She could feel the burns and the tears, the fractures, the choking fear which accompanied grievous injuries. And yet, no matter how terrible the wound, the blue glow of her powers would wash away the pain, leaving behind a cool ghost of where it used to be.

The commonality between all the pains she had healed before was this: they came on suddenly, like a blazing inferno lit within a dragon’s maw. Before one knew what had happened, they were already screaming. It was over before it began. In some ways, it was kinder.

She had thought she had seen it all, had felt everything that the world’s cruelty had to offer.

But the suffering of a breaking heart was like nothing she had experienced before.

The tearing in her chest was drawn out, slow, torturous. Thorn-like barbs pulled underneath the surface of her heart as it ripped apart in exaggerated slowness.

Mipha did not cry out. She did not crumble to her knees. She stood still throughout it all, and bore the pain with the impassivity a healer and a princess was supposed to possess in the face of adversity; she turned from stone, to steel, to ice, while somewhere beneath her ribcage, her bloodied heart raggedly continued to beat.

The corridors of Hyrule Castle had been unusually empty, when she walked quietly atop the deep crimson carpets. In hindsight, she realized that should have been her first clue that she wasn’t supposed to be where she now found herself. The absence of guards and servants should have been a warning that whatever was occurring in that corridor wasn’t meant to be seen by prying eyes.

But in the moment, she hadn’t paid mind to the whispers of the flickering candles in their sconces urging her to turn around, nor to the air that didn’t stir underneath her fins.

She had received a summon from Princess Zelda only two days prior, instructing her to report to the castle for a mission briefing. She had answered it dutifully, as a Champion should, and once she had arrived after her journey from the Lanayru province, she had sought out her commander in the sprawling expanse of stone and fire which was worlds away from the marble and water she would always return to.

Princess Zelda, on whom her attention was fixated. She stared at the glow of the girl’s blonde hair, shining as if it were illuminated by the powers of Hylia which had yet to awaken within her, rather than from the candlelight in the narrow corridor. 

She couldn’t bear to look away from the princess; if she did, she would see the legendary knight sworn to protect her with his arms around her waist. She would be able to see each of them swaying with languid steps, as though they were playing out the motions of a slow waltz in the middle of the hallway. 

A small groan pushed against the back of her lips. Every movement seemed so intrinsic, like they knew the steps by memory, such that they didn’t even need to worry about the intricacies of embracing one another, the princess and the knight in perfect harmony with one another.

The legendary knight. Her childhood companion. Link. The boy— the man— she had hoped to one day marry. The one who she had always imagined holding her, just as he held the girl with goddess blood in her veins, while they shut the world out from around them in the emptiness of the castle.

In some ways, she should have anticipated this. The twinge of jealousy she had felt in learning of Link’s appointment as Zelda’s knight hadn’t been entirely unwarranted, especially once it became clear the two had overcome whatever adversarial differences they had once possessed. They spent every waking moment in each other’s company; something which Mipha could only ever have dreamed of having with Link, even before he had become the knight he was now.

She had simply hoped, however foolishly, that she would have been wrong. That her visions of the princess and the knight becoming closer had always been just that; an over-active imagination, a nagging worry that would ultimately lead nowhere.

Her heartstrings groaned despairingly, like an out of tune symphony eking out a final verse, while she watched the princess and her knight from across the hallway. 

Her dream laid shattered at her feet, and now she had nothing but the pain of the shards underneath her scales.

A far distant part of her hoped that maybe this wasn’t what she was making it out to be. Zelda and Link _had_ become friendlier throughout the last couple of months, that much was clear to all the Champions. But…maybe that’s all it was. Freely embracing was not restricted to lovers, after all; friends could be plenty affectionate with one another.

But then Zelda’s lips brushed gently against the exposed side of Link’s neck, and Mipha knew that she was hopelessly, horribly wrong.

She spun on her heel and briskly, quietly left the pair to their own corner of reality.

Zelda would be made aware of her presence in due time. She had announced herself and her purpose to plenty of the castle guards when she had inquired into the princess’s whereabouts upon her arrival. Until then, she would go sink into one of the castle’s many lakes, lose herself in the dark depths, and let the tears behind her eyes mingle with the water.

..:|:..

Hours after she had retreated to her watery prison, she had finally been alerted that the princess wished to see her. 

The unfortunate guard who had come to collect her needed to awkwardly disturb the surface of the lake with the blunt end of his halberd, in order to get Mipha’s attention. She felt a small icicle of guilt sting at the back of her mind when she finally realized he was there, though she didn’t want to know how long he had lingered at the lake’s edge, pushing water around with his weapon like a child.

And so she had risen out of the lake trailing water at her feet, not caring to stop and wait for it to evaporate under the early morning sun. She reasoned that the carpets she was staining as she wandered the halls of the castle would dry out eventually.

As it turned out, Mipha had not been the only Champion to be summoned to the princess’s side that day.

Beside her, inside the high tower of Zelda’s study, stood Revali. She didn’t cringe away from the haughty air he surrounded himself with like a shroud, whenever he was in Link’s presence. With his wing so close to her arm, she hoped she could siphon some of that indifference into her own cold blood, somehow. 

Their instructions were simple and quick. A Lynel had been terrorizing villagers in the Akkala province, killing their cattle and raiding their towns. They were to go first to Akkala Citadel to receive further information from the commanding officer they would find there, then track down the beast, and exterminate it before it could wreak any more chaos on the defenseless people in the region.

Mipha left the room once the princess had finished speaking. Zelda had not yet given either of the Champions the permission to leave.

It was unspeakably rude, not just for a Champion to do in front of her commander, but for a princess to do in the presence of her equal. But she found that she didn’t have the courtesy in her to care, in that moment. Not when her fins still held onto the droplets of water which had mixed with the tears that had squeezed painfully out of her eyes. 

A voice called out to her back, and there was an unspoken question in the sounds which formed her name, but she didn’t stop.

She just…couldn’t look at the girl who had committed no crime other than, seemingly, falling in love. She certainly couldn’t bring herself to willingly dig the knife deeper into her chest and look at the boy standing at the princess’s back, the one who her heart had once happily sung for.

She needed to leave.

..:|:..

Revali had ridden the air currents alone towards Akkala Citadel. Mipha had traversed the winding rivers and lakes between there and Hyrule Castle.

She hadn’t expected him to offer to take her with him; she would have declined if he had tried. She could move just as quickly beneath the water as he could above the land, if not more-so, and she wanted more than anything to be alone in the few hours it would take them to reach the bastion of Hyrule’s army. Though the strange looks he had offered in her direction once they reached one of the many waterfalls which cascaded into the moat surrounding the castle had indicated there had been something he had wanted to say to her.

He didn’t get the chance to voice whatever his concerns were at that time, not when she had offered him a flat smile and a promise to see him at the Citadel. As those words continued to linger in the air between them, she had leapt off the cliffside, and dove headfirst into the blue-gray waters below.

As she traveled, she didn’t pay much mind to the dense algae she swam through, or the schools of Hyrule Bass she shot past in her haste. The sunlight coming through the surface of the Hylia River filtered white beams through the azure gloom, and she tried very hard to not let the surroundings remind her of the azure eyes she had left at the castle.

With every surge of her legs, she could feel the Lightscale Trident on her back as it scarcely resisted the water it cut through. She focused on those smooth movements to get her through the racing thoughts that wouldn’t leave her mind, no matter how fast she swam to escape them. 

Occasionally, she had to leave the waters and traverse on foot to reach the next body she could reach. She walked from the banks of the Hylia River in order to cross through Lake Ferona; with its warm, aquamarine waters reminiscent of the hot springs that dotted the volcanic landscape, which rose prominently above her head. She walked once again to pass within the deep trenches of Cephla Lake, and she took her time in swimming to the bottom of its depths, before rising back to the surface. 

Yet despite these detours, she had still managed to reach the base of the Citadel before Revali had arrived. Or at least, she thought she had; there was no sign of a Rito-shaped shadow in the sky when she tilted her head up to look for him, and she figured he would have at least remained in the air to find her, and keep her to the tight schedule they were operating on.

But even if she had beaten him to the Citadel, Revali still had the advantage of traveling in a straight line. Once she crossed beneath the great reach of the bridge aptly titled the Akkala Span, she had to travel on foot through the Citadel’s parade grounds, looping up the hill before making her way towards the gatehouse in front of the great fortress. By that time, regardless of whether she had gotten to their destination first or not, he was already stood before the lone crossing which led into the fortress, with his wings resting on his hips.

They entered the Citadel in silence, and the shadows which overtook her skin turned the red of her scales to maroon, in the absence of natural sunlight. Revali’s feathers turned deep indigo, whenever she chanced a glance in his direction. 

They were encased within the mountain it had been carved into, and eventually found themselves in the high-vaulted office which belonged to the soldier who had earned his right to lead the Hyrulean army.

Their briefing with the Citadel’s commander was just that; short, succinct, with all the brevity a military-minded man would afford to his newest recruits, let alone a pair of Hyrule’s esteemed Champions. They were given a direction, a description, and a prayer for the goddess Hylia to protect them in the battle to come.

They had moved on foot from there on out, turning right down the lone cobblestone path which circled around the Citadel on the other side of the natural divide which kept the bastion safe from encroaching invaders.

Without the gentle movements of water around her form, she couldn’t keep herself out of her own mind.

She kept replaying what she had seen, turning the memory over and viewing it from every angle. She wondered if there was something she had misinterpreted. Something she got wrong, when she stood there, mute and hopeless in that quiet hallway. She _hoped_ she had only imagined Zelda’s lips on Link’s skin. That the tightening of Link’s arms around her waist the moment she touched him was only an illusion created by an insecure mind.

The chances of that were as high as her survival in the arid sands of the Gerudo Desert, but it was still worth a try, in her opinion.

“Alright, out with it.”

Mipha startled, and her jewelry shifted quietly across her fins and chest as she whipped her head to look at her traveling companion. They had been walking in a rather tense silence since they had left the Citadel.

“Pardon me?” she asked.

Revali tsked, and shook his head a moment later. Her attention fixed on the swaying of his braids in order to avoid meeting the steel in his eyes.

“Do you really think I haven’t noticed? You’ve had a chip on your shoulder since we left the castle. And I, for one, don’t enjoy the doom and gloom.”

_Then why are you here,_ she wanted to ask him. He had wings; he could take off whenever and wherever he pleased. There was no need for him to walk with her for the next hour to where they would find their prey roaming an empty field outside one of Akkala’s many settlements.

She remained silent, instead, and turned her head back forward. She stared at the uneven rows of cobblestones stretching out before her eyes, and hoped the lack of an answer would prove effective enough to make Revali bored of prodding her.

“Is it the Lynel? If so, there’s no need for you to fret. I’m sure I can handle it perfectly well. Truthfully, I don’t know why the princess didn’t just task me with this…” 

Mipha didn’t typically mind Revali’s boasting. In truth, she often found it refreshing more than she could guess most of their peers did. Her reasoning was more simplistic than others would have expected of her; so many people were too quick to defer to her, and to speak in veiled tones to project an air of respect to someone who was of royal blood.

It was to be expected. She had grown up with the weight of her people’s expectations and reverence on her shoulders; once she was old enough to understand what it meant to be the heir to her father’s throne, she had even welcomed the responsibility, and all that came with it. Decorum was necessary and unavoidable, and for the most part she didn’t mind the boundaries which had been placed between her and those from common birth. 

“…I suppose I should be thankful she offered you as support, though I doubt I’ll need it…”

But Revali was different. He held high society and its members in vague contempt, and he wasn’t afraid to show it. He had the skill to back up his derision, and after several long months spent in his company, she came to recognize there was something underneath his bluster, which prompted him to speak so boldly. It was a welcome change, the bite in his words, which so often prompted her to rise in order to defy his expectations. 

For several weeks, she had been interested in peeling back the layers he hid behind, to see what it was which made him so disdainful of people like her. 

She would catch glimpses, every so often, at the glint of a golden heart beneath the marine blue cover of his feathers. Though he seldom showed it, he did care for those he deemed worthy. It was apparent to her in the way he pushed her to improve beyond her limits whenever they trained together, in the spicy elixir he had brusquely offered her, and all the aid he had given her after, in the days she spent in his home village; in how he had even inquired into her frame of mind, now, albeit in a rather coarse fashion.

“…But if you’d like, once this is over, we can tell her the fight was a joint effort.”

In that moment, however, she truly didn’t want to hear his bravado in the face of her solemn attitude.

“We should keep on guard in case we find the creature sooner than we thought,” she said in response. Her voice was low, even to her own ears; but she knew Revali would hear it. His senses were keener than hers.

The sound of metal shifting over feathers indicated that Revali had likely turned to further face her, but she remained steadfast in keeping her attention off of him.

They continued on in silence, with only the whisper of the wind to keep them company.

..:|:..

The great beast was clear to see, even despite the many yards between it, Mipha, and Revali.

The shock of deep violet hair surrounding its face stood out in vivid relief against the soft tendrils of green grass that reached up to the knees of its horse-like legs. Its silver hide, which was streaked through with vicious indigo stripes that curled over its torso like greedy fingers, bunched and coiled with each heavy step it took. Thick scars roped across its flesh, the raised lines carving through the clean purple streaks, serving as evidence of all those who had sought to slay it before, and had failed in the endeavor.

Though they still remained far enough away from the Lynel that its challenging roars— uttered to any creature that would be foolish enough to dare approach it— were little more than murmurs on the wind, Mipha imagined she could feel the ground shake beneath her whenever it moved.

It was a gorgeous day to slay a beast. The sky was clear, with only a few white clouds spilled out across the otherwise blank cerulean, and the afternoon sun’s rays fell warmly on the earth, still damp from rainfall which had fallen lightly earlier in the morning. The trees which encased the clearing rustled their green leaves in a quiet hush, as if afraid of moving too loudly and disturbing the silver-backed Lynel which stalked beneath their branches.

Mipha’s fingers tightened around the hilt of her weapon, and the gems which dangled from the bases of its prongs chimed softly in the wind, while she held it parallel with the ground.

“I’ll draw its attention first,” Revali murmured. It was the first time either of them had spoken since they had spotted the creature far off in the distance, well away from the path they had been walking for, she guessed, the last hour. In truth, the Rito Champion had been the first to see the Lynel, but Mipha had moved to approach it with little hesitation; despite the trembling in her fingers.

Mipha turned to look at him, but remained silent, waiting for him to continue with his strategizing.

His eyes remained locked on their deadly foe, the emerald of his irises unwaveringly stalwart in the way he tracked its movements. “While I distract it, you need to close in as quickly as you can. These creatures are too cunning for their own good, you know. It won’t be fooled for long—”

“I’ve fought Lynels before,” she said. Even as she spoke, the interruption felt fundamentally wrong; it was almost unheard of, for her to interject like that. She felt like she was going to choke on those few words as she clipped them short. 

She thought about a whirlwind of steel cutting through dusky, reddish-brown hide, of clear azure eyes at the center of the storm. A dark pit yawned wider in the cavern where her heart fluttered pitifully at the resurgence of the memory.

Revali twitched, and his head tilted to the side. When he looked at her out of the corner of his eye, she wasn’t sure if she imagined the concern she saw in his expression.

“With the two of us, it will have to split its attention above and below, which I suppose will make it an easier fight. But, I’ll remind you that I _could_ handle this on my own just fine, if you aren’t sure.”

Mipha knew that was a lie, though she wasn’t sure if it was for the sake of his pride, or for what he perceived to be her fear at facing such a creature. 

He had every cause to believe that to be true; Lynels were, after all, apex predators at the top of the hierarchy which contained all the dark creatures to plague Hyrule. Squadrons of soldiers could be crushed beneath their hooves if they weren’t careful, and the savage steel weaponry they forged were as deadly as the fire they breathed. Their skill in archery was legendary for how quickly they could take down a foe from a hundred yards away, and the elemental arrows they were often seen with only further added to the danger at being caught within their line of fire.

They were terribly intelligent beasts. There were rumors that they were more sentient than their lesser allies; the cruel and primitive Bokoblins, the fierce Moblins, the lumbering Hinoxes, and the cunning Lizalfos. But she wasn’t afraid of them. She had faced one before, and had lived to have the tale recorded forever into her people’s history.

She flinched away from the knowledge that she wasn’t the only Lynel slayer who was written about in that particular story.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “We must handle this quickly.”

Revali’s beak opened, as if he wanted to contradict what she had said, but the creature before them loosed another guttural roar in the interim between their words.

She nodded in its direction, and swiftly moved the Lightscale Trident to rise into the air before her.

Her quiet dismissal proved to be enough to end the line of conversation they had been following; that, or the fact that she had moved her weapon to glint in the sunlight, risking their exposure to the Lynel’s piercing orange eyes.

Revali took one final look at her before his wings folded out to his sides. 

There, he pressed them into the earth, and he turned his head away from her direction. At his back, the Great Eagle Bow shifted with a breeze that had not been present a moment prior. She instinctively crawled a few steps away, and she braced for the surge of wind which would erupt from beneath him at any moment.

The gale was fierce, and flew skyward in a heavy rush which whipped the grass into a wild frenzy. She felt the wind trying to push her out of its path, but she held her place and didn’t waver. Revali hesitated in the eye of the storm; she watched as his attention narrowed to a minuscule point, the yellow plumage of his brow lowering over his jade eyes, while his tornado surged around him.

Then he pushed off of the ground, and was gone.

Mipha’s eyes shot upward until she pinpointed Revali’s movements, watching as he flew quickly in the direction of the Lynel. 

In the distance, another roar sounded; an angry call to battle.

She waited only a few heartbeats before she followed his lead, and quietly weaved her way through the grass.

As she approached, the sizzling cracks of shock arrows being drawn greeted her, before she could see the neon yellow glow of them through the blades. The Lynel hadn’t taken notice of her yet, but her steps stuttered all the same when she registered the presence of the element her people were most prone to.

Perhaps taking a less covert approach was not the greatest of plans, with all things considered now.

It was too late to second guess their decision, however; she tilted her head up in time to watch Revali dive out of the way of a bolt of lightning aimed for his chest.

So she pushed forward, no longer making an effort to conceal herself, and ran as far as she could before the Lynel could spot her.

The beast was massive, up close. It easily stood at five times her own height, and its ivory horns were likely the size and width of her entire torso. The savage bow it held in its strangely Hylian-like hands was similarly large, made of twisted brown metal and thick fibers which glinted in the light of the high sun.

She dug the pommel of the Lightscale Trident into the ground, and launched herself into the air to arc towards the creature. The prongs of her weapon flew in front of her, poised and eager to sink into its sinewy flank. 

The bow shot downwards, and parried her attack with a jar which ran up her arms. 

The Lynel’s head tilted downward to appraise her, but she refused to flinch under the weight of its blank orange eyes as she dropped back to the earth. Its mouth parted, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth that could tear and slice through pounds of solid flesh. 

Even with the distance between her and the creature’s head, she could still hear the breath it drew in as the air surged within its chest.

The roar it loosed caused the wind to stir fierce enough to match Revali’s gale, and she pressed her feet into the ground to keep herself steady. 

In a rather uncharacteristic display of ferocity, she bared her own jagged teeth to the creature, once it had finished its war cry. Lynels, after all, weren’t the only ones to possess such savage features.

As the battle began in earnest, she thought that Revali had been right in his presumption it couldn’t focus on either of them at once, leaving it much more vulnerable to attack. Mipha wasn’t sure if she was grateful for that or not as she dove and weaved her way around the blunt edges of the bow it tried to crash into her skull, and dodged out of the path of its hooves whenever it moved to trample her. 

It was flailing to reach her, instead of employing more calculating maneuvers; a blessing, in some ways, but it made it much more difficult to predict where she needed to be in order to not be crushed.

The Lynel would, however, only concentrate the shock arrows in its quiver on Revali, as he darted in the air above its head and rained down his own arsenal in return. Every one of his shots would find a place in its flesh, leaving her free to continue her own attacks undeterred by the potential of a stray arrow pinning her down. 

The fighting drew them in a long circle within the clearing, and the furious shouts of the Lynel became intermixed with her own cries as she pursued her assault on it from the ground. 

But despite the intensity of her and Revali’s interchanging attacks, the Lynel showed no sign of slowing down. Eventually, it holstered its bow in favor of drawing the towering, round-tipped spear which had thus far gone unused on its back.

It seemed that the beast was beginning to find her to be its most immediate threat.

That was fine with her. It meant she finally got the opportunity to dodge proper attacks, and would be taking on the responsibility of keeping the beast from reaching once again for its bow and shock arrows.

The sound of silver grating on metal joined in with the roars and shouts which emanated from the beast, and her own throat. The battle quickly became a dance between her and the Lynel.

The steps were so familiar to her. The weaving and ducking were reminiscent of the flowing twirls across a ballroom floor, every slash and lunge was a quick turn, a lead which dipped her low to the earth, where her fins nearly brushed the dirt.

The strides of the promenade moved faster, and faster, whipping into a frenzy to match the pace of the music which thrummed in every cry and growl which filled the air.

Out of the corner of her sight, she caught a flash of light brown hair dart around the side of her opponent.

As she moved, the flashing silver of the Lightscale Trident blurred before her eyes. Water trickled down her cheeks, cutting warm trails into the grime which had accumulated on the clear skin of her face.

_“Once this whole thing is over…”_

She swung harder, lunged further, leapt higher, even though her vision was becoming obscured to the point of blindness. She relished in the sting of air whistling past her fins when steel cut too close to flesh.

_“Maybe things can go back to how they used to be when we were young…”_

She rolled underneath the round edges of the spear poised to skewer her, to pin her to the ground and leave her at its wielder’s non-existent mercy. Her feet pushed against the damp earth, weaving forward to cut a path through grass as if it were water, and brought her ultimately closer to the beast’s exposed underbelly. 

Her weapon raised upward, wielded like an artist would a brush, and she drew its tip across the silver-and-purple canvas. Crimson followed in her wake, spilling forth to rain down and to stain the fur above her head.

The hot, viscous liquid intermingled with the water on her face, where it turned just a few shades lighter than the vibrancy of her scales as it ran down towards her feet.

A horrible, ear-splitting cry rang forth from above, and she threw herself as far away as she could before a great hoof kicked through the space she had occupied. However, the Lynel managed to swat at her with a single palm, and slammed into her side with the force of a towering waterfall as she leapt out of its rampaging path. 

She tumbled through the grass, rolling over herself for so long she began to feel the world tilting underneath her prone form. Her weapon fell out from her fingers, lost somewhere beside her. The music stopped; the dance ceased its movements.

In the span of decades, her face eventually pressed into the earth one last time, before she came to a halt laying on her back. She looked up at the clear sky, where she could see a shadow flitting beneath the sparse clouds.

_“You know…perhaps we could spend some time together.”_

The golden light of the sun shimmered through gaps between the feathers of indigo wings.

It looked like the strands of hair she had seen Link’s fingers tangled within. 

She stared up at the darkened shape, and traced the path it drew across the cerulean expanse above her. She remained sprawled out in the empty field, while the memory of her own hopeful voice drifted off into the wind. Embarrassment swept in to wash away the happy memory of an afternoon spent atop Ruta’s trunk, and tinged it with something heavier, more despondent.

High pitched whistles screeched as steel rained down like water from the shadow above her.

“Sometime today would be nice, _princess_!”

Revali’s voice bounced around the emptiness in her head, long after he had swooped closer to the earth in order to shout the sardonic comment for her to hear.

The reminder was hardly needed; she knew still had a task to perform.

Mipha rolled onto her side, and her fingers felt through the strands of the grass in front of her, searching for the cool pole of the Lightscale Trident amongst the foliage. Once she grasped it, she rose to her knees, then stood on shaking feet. 

The adrenaline from the beginning of the battle, and her heightened emotions, was wearing thin. She hadn’t been built for drawn out combat against such an intimidating foe, and she was quickly recognizing the signs of fatigue setting into her bones.

Her head raised, and she propped herself against her weapon to search for the battle she would have to throw herself back into.

She spotted the Lynel several yards away, and for a moment she observed as it continuously stabbed its spear into the air, hoping to catch Revali on its end.

The Champion was proving too fast for it, however. He always darted out of the path of the Lynel’s weapon mere seconds before it could touch him, and whenever he moved, a new arrow would lodge into the creature’s back. 

While she watched the duel, she knew that he had likely been correct in his assumption that he could have handled the fight on his own. The Lynel had yet to land a blow on him; he was as unpredictable as the wind, completely changing direction with mere a tilt of his wings. He rose into the air in quick flashes, and would draw his bow faster than her eyes could track. With every shot he fired he seemed to hover in the air, cradled there with invisible hands as if the sky itself hesitated to give him back to the earth. 

He was…captivating. Untouchable. Masterful.

Several crimson rivulets streamed down the Lynel’s hide from the shafts embedded into its flesh; but Mipha could tell that Revali’s quiver was running low, as the times between his shots began to grow longer. The Lynel, meanwhile, was still showing no signs of slowing; despite the numerous, vicious wounds which had been carved across its body.

This needed to end quickly, before Revali no longer had arrows to fire. Before she could no longer draw the strength to continue the fight.

She finally ran forward, racing in a crimson blur across the clearing. The Lynel noticed her pursuit once she had crossed little over half the distance, and quickly swung the endless length of its weapon out in a wide arc to catch her in her pursuit.

She ducked underneath it, twirling her weapon in her hands as she went. Her eyes narrowed as she felt the heavy rush of steel above her head. Her movements mirrored the waves themselves, dipping low to gather momentum before rising higher to crash onto the shore—

—And a moment later, she sank her trident into its abdomen.

A quarter of her weapon vanished into silver and purple hide, disappearing up to the turquoise handhold on the hilt. 

The guttural scream elicited by the wound pierced into her ears hard enough to sting.

The Lynel bucked, and quickly began to thrash in a rampage around the clearing. Mipha’s hands were still wrapped around the shaft of her weapon, and she felt herself being yanked away from the earth in a vicious jerk which shook her bones. A quiet scream that had been lingering in her throat was left somewhere on the ground behind her.

The silver and gems of her jewelry snapped against her fins, which ached as she was thrown aimlessly at the mercy of the beast. For several moments she held tight to her spear, praying she wouldn’t lose her grip, while her mind frantically tried to figure out what to do. The world blurred in front of her eyes, green swirling into blue into silver into purple in a sickening kaleidoscope.

Then, with her heart in her throat, she began to pull and twist to remove the Lightscale Trident from the muscle it was embedded in. More roars erupted above her head, and she flinched against the assault on her eardrums. She tugged harder, and through the shaft she felt as flesh began to tear under the silver of her weapon’s prongs.

Once she pulled herself free, she went tumbling back into the grass. She couldn’t stop herself from crying out as her head cracked against the ground, and stars erupted behind her eyes.

She was sure she wasn’t imagining the ground shaking beneath her this time, and she scrambled back to her feet just barely fast enough to avoid the hoof aimed for her skull, holding tight onto her weapon as she went. 

When she finally came to an unsteady stop, the world insisted on continuing to spin and tilt underneath her feet. Warm bile crawled up her throat as she watched her weapon split into three versions of itself before her.

The Lynel crossed to the other edge of the clearing, and she barely noticed Revali swoop in from behind her, flying low to fire a shot aimed between its furious orange eyes. It raised the flat edge of its spear up to deflect the arrow, which was sent harmlessly to the earth. A moment later, it splintered underneath the beast’s hooves.

She felt her heart drop out of her throat, falling past the cavity it was supposed to occupy and into her stomach, when the Lynel holstered its spear and redrew its bow.

Her feet raced to close the distance, moving before she could realize that she was hoping if she was close enough to it, it wouldn’t risk firing its shock arrows so close to its own flesh.

The Lynel drew three of the bright yellow arrows out of the leather quiver slung over its back, and placed them against the heavy bowstring. Green tongues of lightning flickered into existence around the dual prongs, twisting viciously in the open air. 

Mipha ignored the shout which called down to her from the sky, and continued on her path forward. She kept her eyes resolutely on the metal weapon, and she tracked its upward movement as the Lynel raised it to point directly towards the sun. It pulled its bowstring back, and the lightning it held grew stronger with every uneasy step she took.

The arrows flew out from the beast’s grasp with a harsh snap which cut through the air, and she hoped Revali would have the good sense to dodge out of their way, now that he had more projectiles to contend with. Her pursuit went unchanged while she ran in a straight line.

She heard the crack of lightning before she saw it. Before she felt it.

There was no time for her to breathe, or to think that she had made a fatal mistake. 

In a blinding flash, intermingling shades of bright green and white obscured everything around her. The colors chased away the emerald trees and the deep blue sky until her world became nothing but light, as electricity arced through the arrow which had embedded itself into the earth at her feet, surging through the hilt of the Lightscale Trident she held, and up into her flesh.

The light was so cold, so uncaring; yet it _burned_ , with unnaturally cold fingers seizing control of her muscles. Her lungs constricted so severely she couldn’t even scream at the onslaught as her veins were set on fire.

Breathing was impossible, in the endless space of time she spent encased in the light. Surges of energy bolted through her bones hard enough for her to imagine cracks forming under the pressure.

Soft blue light fluttered at the edges of the maelstrom, rising in small bubbles against the onslaught, but she couldn’t turn her head to face the glow. She could barely discern the struggle it underwent to break through the sparking edges of green and white, and moments later, it vanished entirely. 

Her heartbeat stuttered with the glow’s passing, and it fought to keep steady under the iron grasp which had encased it. The thunder of her pulse faded to a low murmur in her ears.

Was this what it felt like to die?

Distantly, as though she were experiencing it from a far distance within her own mind, she felt her feet lift off of the ground. She didn’t register the heavy weight that had slammed into her chest until the pressure had alleviated from her a short time later, and the remaining air in her lungs was forced out of her mouth in a harsh sigh.

A sick sense of deja vu overcame her as her body crescendoed listlessly into the air, and then sank. The movements felt akin to swimming; the only difference came in the harsh approach of the ground as it rushed up to greet her battered form, instead of the way the familiar currents would envelop her in gentle arms.

When she returned to the earth, she felt herself bounce away from the initial landing point, and her body didn’t stop tumbling until her back pressed firmly against some form of barrier.

Across the chasm of shadow which had fallen over her eyes, she could hear screams and guttural roars, and the whistle of arrows. The sounds blended together into an endless cacophony, bouncing around inside her head.

She wanted to clasp her hands over her ears to make it stop; it was all too much.

Eventually, it did; and the cacophony of battle finally went still in the silence which eagerly rushed in to fill the void.


	2. Chapter 2

Reality bled back to her in a slow, agonizing stream.

Light filtered in first, turning the darkness from a blanket of pure ebony into increasingly lighter shades of gray, like storm-clouds fading into gentle mist before her eyes.

Sound came next, and she focused on the rustle of leaves above her head, the brushing of grass blades against one another. 

Further away from her, but closing in swiftly, powerful and steady beats were stirring the air into a whirlwind. Indigo and white flared gently in her memories; it was a comforting thought, soft as down-feathers and just as light on her mind. 

The gusts buffeted her fins, and with them, sensation returned to her with the force of a stampeding Hinox.

“Were you trying to get yourself killed?!”

Mipha’s teeth bit into her cheek, and she barely managed to hold back a pitiful groan. The question, which she presumed was directed at her, sounded high and angry enough to only be described as a shriek. Her eyes screwed shut against the bright sunlight which threatened to filter past the gray mist she had lingered in, and she fought to keep herself conscious against the waves of pain which coursed across her body.

The base of her skull throbbed, a warm and weak pulse beneath her unresponsive muscles, and her fingers wrapped into the stinging blades of grass to make sure she wasn’t going to tumble off of the earth as it tilted precariously underneath her, like a ship caught on a roiling sea. It was the first sign of a concussion, and the last thing she had wanted to find herself enduring. 

She trailed her attention downwards once she had identified that as her most pressing concern, and her fingers brushed against her skin to gingerly prod at a long bruise carved along her torso, slashing diagonally from her shoulder to her opposite hip, ironically following the shape of her Champion’s sash. She didn’t need to move much further to know that various other cuts were littered across her body like craters.

Healing herself was always so much more difficult than healing others. The pain she felt would be amplified, doubling over itself as she re-experienced it all like a closed circuit, as she engaged in the arduous task of knitting her own flesh back together. 

She hated it, but she was the only one who could take care of the agony she was feeling. She was a healer; and goddesses knew there was no-one else around to help her deal with her injuries in a timely manner.

She was so incredibly tired, though. She wanted to give in to the darkness which covered her sight, and sink into the depths of her dreams. There, she could pretend the pain was nothing more than an illusion, a bad daydream.

Such a thing wasn’t possible, however. She couldn’t allow herself to sleep, knowing the damage that could be wrought with the wound in her head.

When she finally blinked her eyes open, she blearily stared up at blond hair and deep blue eyes.

Her breath shuddered as she breathed in, as her weak lungs protested against being forced to perform their tasks. 

She wanted to close her eyes to the sight of Link kneeling before her, but despite how much it hurt— more than the ache in her head, or the sting over her ribs— she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. 

Her gaze darted over his face, drinking in his unmarred skin, before moving to the downturn of his lips. Then, to the way his arm rested across his bent leg; and finally, to study how his fingers were unfurled, absent of the purple and emerald hilt of the Master Sword.

Even with the bright blue Champion’s tunic he wore, he looked so much like the boy she remembered from years ago, before he had walked out of the Great Hyrule Forest with that _cursed_ sword in hand. As he appeared before her eyes now, he was fresh-faced; his expression stoic but not _empty_ , as he had become in the years since he had took up the blade.

And as she stared at him she wished, no matter how selfishly, that Link had never found the sacred weapon. That he had never been chosen to be its wielder, that his destiny wouldn’t have been intertwined with that of Princess Zelda’s. Things would have been so much simpler, had he only remained as the son of an acclaimed knight.

Instead of a sword, and a fate larger than life, she could have given him the armor she had bent over for countless hours, and woven her very soul into. The patch where her white scale had been torn gently from her flesh had taken months to grow back, but she hadn’t cared, as she stitched it into the place which would cover his heart and shield him from anything that would dare to harm him.

She could have given him her world. Why hadn’t the cruel goddesses deemed that to be enough for him?

The wounds on her heart split back open when she stared at him, and she wondered at that moment what he must have thought of her, as she laid broken in the dirt.

She exhaled, and the image of Link wavered. Her aching heart wept at the thought of letting go. Of him, of her ideal future, of everything she had wanted for them both. Yet despite those hopes which now only caused her pain, she still wanted to reach out and hold his hand, to feel his skin on hers even once, however briefly it may have been, however imaginary; but the sight of him shimmered away before she could command her fingers to raise towards him.

In the place Link had occupied, Revali was knelt before her.

Her face contorted into a confused stare when she registered his presence. Revali was too proud to kneel for anyone, unless decorum dictated he do so under penalty of disrespecting a member of a royal family, or some similar dignitary who held a higher title than him. And though Mipha was royalty, herself, she had never seen or expected Revali kneel to her. They were equals, as much as a Zora princess and Rito warrior could be, through their shared titles of Champion. 

The longer she stared at him, the more she worried that the dirt would burrow into, and stain, the tawny feathers which sheathed his legs. He took great care of his appearance; debasing himself like this probably wounded him even more than her own injuries did her.

He was frowning too, just as her hallucination of Link had. But his expression went further than that, and she realized his brow was furrowed with barely concealed fury, in a way Link would never have expressed. The fingers of his wings were clenched at his sides, while his beloved bow laid forgotten on the ground between them.

Part of her wanted to reach out and grasp it in her hands, just to feel something solid other than her own battered body.

“I…was trying to, f-finish the battle—”

Her voice trailed off into a cough, and she winced as her ribs ached in protest against the tremors racking her bones. Her fingers clenched over the gash in her ribs as his fists tightened.

Revali was less than impressed by her answer, if she was assuming correctly based on the way his eyes managed to narrow even further as she spoke. She wasn’t going to question his presence in front of her, however; if he were there, it meant the Lynel was dead. 

Good riddance. She never wanted to see another one of those beasts for a very long time.

As she watched him, his eyes continued to dart over every plane of her body, moving too fast for her to track. She quickly felt dizzy watching the emerald blurs taking in the number of her injuries, and turned her attention instead to raising a shaking arm towards the back of her head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Revali bit out, and Mipha’s eyes shifted back to meet his. His wing was outstretched towards her, as though he meant to grab her as she moved.

“I have to heal this,” she rasped. Her fingers flicked towards where she could feel rivulets of liquid running over the sagging body of her head fin, the movements suspiciously thicker and slower than water.

As she gave her brief explanation, she realized she had no water to use.

“Do you…have a waterskin I can b-borrow?” she asked, despite her voice still being uncomfortably weak. She waited as Revali wordlessly shifted to reveal a pouch dangling off of his hip, then held out a wavering hand towards him, and silently urged him to unscrew the lid of the leather container to allow a small stream to flow over her skin.

She sighed in unconcealed relief once the cool liquid touched her, and she pretended she felt stronger just from its presence alone. It helped her to force her muscles into bending at her will, even though every part of her body felt as rigid as Death Mountain.

She could see the blue glow of her powers emanating out of the corner of her eye, in preparation to run her fingers along the base of her skull. A moment later, her teeth bit hard enough into her lip to draw blood when the cold touch of her healing began the long task of piecing her broken body back together. It was a vast difference from the lightning that had carved a vicious trail through every available surface of her body, but the task of needing to focus on healing her own wounds was still far from ideal.

As the time passed slowly with every gentle swell of the blue light in her hands, her vision slowly began to clear, and became less blurred as her power slowly worked its way through the tender injury. She sighed again as the cool water gently washed away the angry red which pulsed underneath her eyelids with every lazy blink she took.

In the interim while she went about her task, Revali continued to watch her with unnerving intensity. She kept her eyes away from his as much as she could, flitting up to stare at the clouds, or down to the ends of her feet, covered in the dew and small strands of grass; but every so often, she would return to that deep jade, and she would worry at the chill which emanated from his attention.

Under the weight of his anger, Mipha was struck, suddenly, by a deep-seated yearning for the time when he would watch her with some unnamed emotion; the kind which set butterflies to flutter in her chest, instead of this angry silence which hovered over both of them with an oppressive air.

Her eyes eventually closed entirely, to hide her shame away from his attention. She turned her focus inward, and continued to press her powers gently into the wound on the back of her head.

Further away from their small pocket in the clearing, the lilting chirps of small woodland birds called out in the forest, and wove underneath the quiet rustle of the leaves above her head. They were the only sounds she could hear in the dark, and a heavy lump solidified in her throat as she was left alone with her thoughts. 

“It would seem…that the princess has won Link’s affections.”

She wasn’t sure what prompted her to speak her innermost fear, but the words bubbled to the surface unbidden all the same.

The brush of feathers and metal over fabric gently met her ears, but she didn’t open her eyes just yet, to witness Revali’s reaction to her words. “What? How do you know that?”

Despite his questioning tone, Revali didn’t sound too surprised by her sudden admission. 

She hoped that was because he had simply been too uninterested in the affairs of anything Link was related to; she didn’t think she could bear being so oblivious to something that he had discerned long before she could. The thought of Link and Zelda’s burgeoning relationship being so easily seen by everyone but her made Mipha’s stomach roil.

Her eyes flickered back open, now that she felt more capable of seeing the world remain steady around her. The wound at the back of her head had faded to a dull ache; a vast improvement over the sharp stab it had presented minutes before, but it would be several days before she could fully heal the intricate damage done to her skull and her brain.

Revali’s attention was heavy on her as he stared, seemingly dumbfounded, at her. The scowl which had shadowed his expression had lifted into gentle surprise, the yellow feathers of his brow raised above his eyes while his beak remained shut, for once. 

“I saw them, in the corridor…” Her voice trailed into a whisper, then into silence. 

Oh, goddesses. This was all happening after she had asked Daruk for his help in training her, in the hopes of fully capturing Link’s attention…she felt like such a fool.

She didn’t think she could describe the scene to Revali even if he asked. Despite the innocence of the embrace, it ached worse than her head to recall the sight of Zelda in Link’s arms, to relive the shattering of her heart from the beginning.

Instead, she focused on running her hands across her chest, and Revali’s feathers became bathed in an azure glow as her powers gently coursed through the deep bruise which was beginning to surface in an ugly green and purple splotch underneath her flesh.

Revali shook his head shook in disbelief, seemingly unaware of the turmoil which raged in her mind. “And this was enough to make you throw yourself at a Lynel like a chew toy?”

His words indicated he had caught on quick to the reason for her lack of regard from earlier; far sooner than she would have liked. It was to be expected, however. The Rito Champion could be too observant for his own good, sometimes. Something which Mipha admired and disliked in equal measures. However, even with those few words, he didn’t seem to understand the irrationality a broken heart could inspire. 

She didn’t blame him for it; she couldn’t have predicted it either, before that morning. Besides that fact, she couldn’t imagine Revali ever allowing himself to behave in such a disgraceful manner. Something as trivial as love didn’t strike her to be his primary concern.

But it had been hers. And she had lost it.

Even though Revali couldn’t understand what had pushed her to such drastic, uncharacteristic behaviors, she was nonetheless mortified when she realized that she had been so insultingly dismissive of her own safety, knowing the status she held both in her own kingdom, and all across Hyrule.

That wasn’t even the most egregious thing she had done. She had put Revali in danger, with the way she had thrown herself into battle so ungracefully. She had threatened the success of the Champions’ efforts in preparing for the Calamity; if she had died here, in a nameless clearing at the hands of a single Lynel, who would be left to control her Divine Beast? Was there even the possibility of another Zora taking her place? Vah Ruta had chosen her as its pilot, just as much as she had chosen to take up the mantle. Would the gentle giant have accepted anyone else? 

It was embarrassing, the way she had conducted herself. But the loss of love was hardly ever rational, was it?

She felt a thin smile work its way onto her lips, despite feeling very incapable of expressing any sort of amusement in the moment. 

“I had hoped to tell Link how I felt after the Calamity is defeated. I’ve…spent months working on a traditional engagement gift that’s customary in my family. I was going to give it to him.”

_And now that’s impossible_ , she added, silently. Such a thing would be, ultimately, fruitless. Link had never held her the way he had held Zelda; to try and intrude on whatever was growing between them would only be needlessly selfish and cruel to everyone involved. 

If there was anything Mipha wished to avoid becoming, it was those two characteristics which were so antithetical to everything she sought to be: poised, kind, gentle. Graceful.

She shifted her attention away from the tender, sore subject, and fixated on the disappearing splotches of green and purple fading away from the cream of her skin, and the dwindling crimson cuts which marred her smooth scales.

It took longer than she would have liked, and every beat of her heart in her chest felt like the pulses were spread out further than was natural, as she gently went about clearing away the remaining gashes and smaller bruises which would hinder her swimming. 

The mere thought of moving through the depths of the river as the current pushed against her made her muscles cry out in protest, but she ignored the worry in favor of lingering over one last cut which wrapped around her thigh.

Once that was concluded, she silently inspected herself one last time, before deeming herself fit enough for travel.

“I believe I’m well enough to go, now,” she announced, with no small amount of eagerness, urged into existence by the hope to move past the melancholic topic she had brought up minutes ago. She emphasized her false cheer with a smile for Revali’s benefit, though he didn’t seem affected by the gesture. His expression remained flat as he watched her, and she eventually turned her eyes away from him, to focus on planting her hands into the earth.

Whatever Revali was thinking, he kept those thoughts to himself as she slowly set herself to the task of rising to her feet. Her eyes fixated on her legs, while she directed them to curl underneath her body so she could rise to her knees.

It was an agonizingly slow process, despite the lengths she had gone to in order to heal herself. Her body didn’t want to cooperate with her; her limbs felt as though they were little stronger than brittle coral, ready to snap at the slightest amount of pressure.

She grit her teeth as she pressed her knees into the dirt. Part of her wanted to ask Revali if he could find her trident; it had to be somewhere nearby, and she needed the support of its cool silver hilt now more than ever. Her fingers knit into the grass in her grasp, and she subtly tugged on the strands to judge whether she could use them as a handhold to pull herself up.

An expanse of indigo and white feathers extended into her line of sight.

She frowned once she registered the presence, knowing that something like it wasn’t usually supposed to be on the ground before her eyes. A moment later, however, she belatedly registered the wing which was unfurled in her direction. She followed the line of it forward until she traced across a tawny leather spaulder, and then up to meet Revali’s stare.

He had risen to stand at some point during her struggle, and with his wing held out in the space between them, she realized he was offering to help her to her feet. He had also collected his bow, in the short span of time since she had last looked at him. It rose prominently behind his back, the proud silhouette of the purple and yellow wood mirroring his ever-strict posture.

With a small, grateful smile, her hand shakily rose from the earth, and she placed it lightly into the center of Revali’s wing. His fingers curled around her arm once she steadied herself against him, and his pulse thrummed in a gentle and steady beat against her.

As he helped her rise to her feet, she wondered if he ever felt overheated when he left the tundra of his homeland. The Akkala sun was far stronger than she had experienced in Hebra, and the spring air was warm with burgeoning life. The layers of his feathers could hide most things, but they were thick and plentiful, and she could feel the warmth of his body heat under her touch. She worried that he may be suffering as he stood there with her.

Once she stood on relatively steady feet, she looked around the clearing in front of them for any sign of a silver weapon laying forgotten in the grass. Her eyes slid carefully around the carcass which was slumped on the other side of the expanse from her, and the lone shock arrow which was still barely nocked against the bowstring of the Lynel’s now harmless bow.

She saw no sign of the Lightscale Trident in the foliage, and so she resolved to step forward in order to seek it out before they finally departed from the battleground.

When she moved, Revali went with her, allowing her to continue bracing herself against his steadfast presence. His fingers curled firmly around her arm every so often, whenever she would waver in her steps. Her own fingers would twitch in his hold when he did so; she hoped he understood the silent gratitude she was trying to give him, in place of a spoken thanks. Her mind couldn’t focus on the monumental task of speaking and walking at the same time, in that moment.

The longer she remained on her feet, the more her muscles shuddered and jerked underneath her weight; she felt no stronger than seaweed, gently wavering in the ocean current. The press of her legs against the earth felt like glass was being pushed into her bones. She took a few more wavering steps forward, as the tremors in her legs increased to a point where she felt like her muscles would snap from the strength of the convulsions. 

“On second thought, I don’t think I’ll be able to travel back to the castle in this state,” she finally admitted, her voice little more than a quiet gasp. Shakily, she settled herself back down to the ground, and her arm slipped out of Revali’s unusually gentle hold, to fall cold and listless at her side. He whipped around to face her a moment after she had sunk away from him.

His scrutiny stung worse than the lingering memory of the wounds.

“Please, don’t wait on my account,” she pleaded. She offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile, and gestured towards the direction the pair of them had come from, before they had engaged in battle. “But, if you wouldn’t mind, could you send a platoon from the Citadel to collect me? I’ll be just fine here.”

Revali stood as still as stone as he studied her. His wings were folded rigidly at his back, and his eyes remained as hard as emeralds.

Then, he shook his head, turning his eyes off of her, and muttered under his breath while he glared out to the tree-line. She couldn’t understand everything he was saying; her hearing wasn’t as acute as his, but despite this, she was still able to discern Link’s name from his angry whisper.

She credited herself when she didn’t flinch at the single syllable which had defined her world until that morning, and kept her attention as steadfast as she could while she watched Revali war with himself in front of her.

An echo of the thought she had encountered as she imagined Link kneeling before her returned, as she stared at him; this time, she wondered what Revali saw when he looked at her, weakly sprawled out in the grass, with her muscles quavering under the remnants of the electricity which had threatened her life.

Eventually, he turned his back to her, and stalked in a direction away from where she sat. 

She felt a sigh brush past her lips as she watched him leave. Part of her was grateful that he wouldn’t subject himself to any more of her self-pity; a larger part of her already mourned the lack of his companionship and gruff warmth.

That larger part of her was the reason she felt confusion wash over her in a quick rush, as Revali stopped at a point in the center of the clearing, and bent down to collect something hidden in the waving grass. She watched in silence as he stood back up with her weapon in his grasp, and he quickly walked back to her with it held carefully in both wings.

When he returned, he planted the hilt into the dirt, and the gems which hung from the ends of each prong shifted gently with his movements.

Distantly, she thought that he looked…strangely good, with her treasured weapon in his grasp.

Her heart beat quicker in her chest to chase that errant idea away.

It could only be the resulting complications, causing the remnants of the concussion to addle her rationality.

When he tilted the shaft of the trident towards her, she reached out to grasp it with weak fingers. However, when she went to pull it down to rest at her side, Revali kept it standing straight in the air.

“Can you stand?” he asked. His voice was unusually quiet, compared to the typical confident bluster he wielded.

She didn’t understand why he was asking her that question; she’d already proven she couldn’t walk more than ten steps without collapsing. Did he expect her to stand in place so the Citadel’s party would be able to see her from a distance? Her muscles already ached at the notion.

She resolved herself to at least try and prove she could do as he asked, however. Whatever Revali had planned, her pride wasn’t going to let her shrink back in the face of whatever he was thinking.

When she pulled herself up to her feet, she clung to the Lightscale Trident like a youngling afraid of venturing into the deeper depths of an unknown lake. Revali waited until she was steady against the solid line of her weapon before he released it, and then he moved to unhook his bow from the leather holster strapped across his shoulders. 

She hummed with an unspoken question raising her voice, and tilted her head to the side as he laid his weapon at his talons, and then turned so his back was to her.

His head turned such that he could peer up at her over his shoulder.

“Get on,” he ordered. He crouched down to the earth, and pressed his wings to the ground in a familiar motion.

Mipha stammered as she realized what he was doing.

“N-no, truly, I’ll be fine. There’s really no need—”

“Either you get on my back now, princess, or I will carry you with my talons. Leaving you here isn’t an option, and I promise you, one choice is much more pleasant than the other.”

The steel in his voice cut cleanly through the vague protest she had been uttering. 

She narrowed her eyes as she met his hard stare. 

They remained at an impasse for a few moments, while she weighed the likelihood of Revali staying true to his word and curling his claws around her against the prospect of burdening him with her dead weight on his back.

Her legs shook as she continued to stand with her forehead pressed to the cool silver she held, and as the tremors grew stronger, she finally took the steps necessary to approach him, using her legendary weapon as a walking stick in order to do so.

Revali’s eye remained fixed on her as she came closer, and he lowered himself even further to the ground so she could more easily climb onto his back without straining her already taxed muscles.

She slowly holstered her weapon into its own sheath behind her. The silver slid almost silently against the chains, until it had settled into its proper place. Then, she placed her hands on the straps which hooked Revali’s breastplate over his shoulders. Her fingers curled around the dark brown leather, and she did her best to not dig her claws too far into the deep feathers underneath her touch as she struggled to hoist herself off of the ground.

Eventually, she managed to push hard enough to straddle Revali’s waist, and her legs kicked weakly at the air, trying hook overtop the thick belt which held the thin metal slats hung at his hips. 

She marveled at how steady he held himself, despite her constant shifting and pulling as she attempted to steady her position. And though she would never admit this to him, she found his feathers underneath her fingers to be distracting. They were incredibly soft, evoking the memory of Rito-made clothing as she touched his shoulders, and the thought was serving an unfortunate purpose in diverting her attention from actually accomplishing her task.

When Revali’s wings took hold of her ankles in order to secure them at his sides, she didn’t flinch at his touch. His fingers lingered over her scales before he returned to pressing his wings to the ground.

She took a few moments to make sure any extraneous parts of her weren’t digging into his torso, before she met his eye once again and nodded to signal she was ready.

Behind her, she heard his talons clink and scrape across wood.

“Don’t startle,” he warned her. 

The breeze began to pick up around her as he spoke, and the chains of her jewelry clinked gently in the shifting air. His head turned back forward, and then lowered, as though he were engaging in prayer. His braids brushed against the intricate necklace at the hollow of her throat when she followed him, and pressed her chest into his frame.

“Oh, and one more thing: enjoy the view.”

The wind surged into a tornado, strong enough to rip the grass from the earth, and her heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest as the forest around her melted away in the blink of an eye.

Despite Revali’s warning, a sharp yelp pushed out of her mouth as the wind threatened to loosen her grasp on her makeshift handholds, and she pulled tight against the leather straps to make sure she wouldn’t fall away from the safety of his back. Her legs threatened to unhook from his hips from the sheer force of the wind as it surged in all directions around her, and her eyes squeezed tight while she focused all her attention on tightening the press of her ankles into the metal underneath them.

The Rito Champion took her struggle in stride, however, and he didn’t waver as he continued to rise higher into the air, carrying them both through the eye of the whirlwind.

Her fins snapped and flailed in the gale, but she didn’t dare remove a hand from Revali’s armor in order to steady them. Her face pressed into his neck, and she fought not to squeal into his feathers as her stomach continued to drop further below her than she had ever thought possible.

When she finally dared to open her eyes again, she blinked furiously against the rush of wind, even though it had lessened considerably in the long minutes since their ascent had first began. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes almost immediately, and she spent a few moments merely squinting at the indigo and orange braids in front of her to adjust to the sensation. 

In small increments, she widened her stare, and the frequency of her blinks slowed until she was finally able to raise her head away from Revali’s neck, and take in their surroundings. 

She was met with pure, unending blue.

Everywhere she looked, it was like she was seeing the ocean surrounding them, with its the smooth expanse spread out in every direction. Her eyes were level with some of the lowest clouds, their white forms lazily curling into new shapes, with their edges fading into the peaceful backdrop they were set against.

Her breath felt like it was being taken from her lungs, but she didn’t pay it any mind.

She could hardly believe what she was seeing, what was happening in that moment; she was _flying_.

A quiet laugh fluttered in her chest, like a small robin hopping in the trees.

Heights didn’t frighten her, truly; part of her culture involved throwing herself off of precarious cliff-sides, and diving into bodies of water from pinnacles which would kill any other creature. 

Yet she had never, ever been high enough to touch the clouds themselves with her fingers.

Underneath her, Revali’s head tilted to the side, and she could barely discern the corner of his eye peering at her while she smiled out towards the open sky. 

It was the first genuine smile to grace her features all day, and the expression had never felt more appropriate than in that moment, as she relished in the brush of the wind against her scales. 

The crushing weight of the memory from that morning, and the subsequent pain of the earlier battle, all melted away with the breeze, leaving her feeling like she could float, if she let go of her companion.

She finally braved loosening one of her hands away from Revali’s armor, and she raised her arm out to her side ever so slightly, as Revali angled towards a cloud in an unspoken understanding of what she wanted.

Her hand carved small trails through the uniformity of the cool, white mist. 

It felt like the gentle pulse of the tide, the pull of underwater currents whenever she sunk beneath and lost herself in the waves. It felt like freedom.

..:|:..

Much like the riverbeds and the ocean floors which Mipha was intimately familiar with, the sky was its own self-contained world, far away from the trappings of the earth.

So much of the land was spread out beneath her eyes for her perusal, a patchwork of forests and farmlands stitched together with the light azure threads of the rivers which she so often swam within. The hills of Akkala rose and fell in gentle dips and swells, like emerald green waves reminiscent of the ocean foam along the coast of the Faron region. 

In every direction, villages dotted the landscape, with their small brown buildings and tan paths nestled comfortably into the wilderness, spread out like small fleets of fishing boats amongst the open expanse.

Further out to her right, she studied the way the hills and valleys sharpened, and rose into the higher, steeper cliffs which comprised the base of Death Mountain.

It glowed against the horizon, and even from this distance, she was entranced by the lava flows which ran down its cracked and burned sides, appearing like exposed veins of molten gold which pooled into deadly rivers and lakes further down its base.

The mountain looked different, from the air. Whenever she had looked at it from the safety which distance and lack of height provided, she only ever observed brown rock. It wasn’t until she had ascended the mountain for the first time mere weeks ago— though truthfully it felt like lifetimes had passed since the Champions’ tour to the Goron’s domain— that she had witnessed the power of the earth itself, with its rumbling earthquakes and endless streams of magma.

All of it, from the green fields and the fierce volcano, was impossibly gorgeous. But more than that, it all seemed so _tiny_. 

She had never imagined that she would ever think of Hyrule in that way; the way she had viewed the country from the ground and the water had been her entire understanding of the world, up until the moment she had climbed onto Revali’s back and they had flown into the clouds. Her whole life had been spent with her feet touching solid earth, or flowing rivers. She hadn’t left her homeland until she had come of age, and even after all those years since she had first stepped out into the greater expanse of Hyrule, the world had still been very much new and large in her eyes.

Now, she realized she could see the far corners of the rainforests which blanketed the Faron region. She could gaze upon Death Mountain and its perpetual fire. Further out in front of her, Hyrule Castle’s spires rose up from the ground in minuscule spikes, and the Great Plateau appeared like little more than a small disc surrounded by the monasteries and outposts which lined its walls. She could even see the mountains of the Hebra province, and the looming, flat plateaus which served as the natural gateways into the Gerudo’s territory, despite her being on the distant side of the country from those foreign lands.

And this was the view which Revali so freely had access to.

She never could have anticipated the top of the world would be so different from the depths of the waters she lived within.

“How do you know he would have accepted it?”

Mipha tore her eyes from the land below, and burrowed herself deeper into the warmth which wavered underneath her, like the gentle caress of waves surrounding her body.

“Hm?”

She felt Revali’s chest rise and fall with the exaggerated sigh he released into the wind around them.

“You said you had made an engagement gift for Link. How do you know he would have wanted it? Did you think he felt the same way you do?”

She frowned into the shadowy feathers shifting against her face.

That…was an interesting question.

It had always been an implicit fact, in her world. She would craft the Zora Armor for the man she wanted to marry, he would accept it, and they would be wed. They would be _happy_. Those steps were as cemented as the rise and fall of the moon in the sky every night, the ebb and flow of the tides along the shore. It was simply the way things were. Every gray scale she stitched into the silver and deep marine clothing had been placed there because of that assumption.

The uncertainty of whether Link would accept it was something she had never considered. She’d never felt she needed to; in her mind, the only outcome was that he would wear the armor, just as every Zora princess’s intended had before him.

“I…I’m not sure if he did.”

The words were like daggers, cutting a path up through the inside of her throat. It hurt so much, to admit it. But she knew, as she shamefully buried her face into Revali’s neck, that she hadn’t ever considered the possibility that Link didn’t feel the same love for her as she did him. She couldn’t lie about something like that, not to herself, or to the man who had asked her the innocent question.

A part of her was surprised that such a thought had never occurred to her.

But when she considered it further, she realized that the quiet concern had always existed within her, buried deep beneath the hopes she had built up like impenetrable walls, to contain and forget that very thought. Regardless of whether she had acknowledged it or not.

That doubt was still nestled deep under the rubble that had been strewn in that corridor in Hyrule Castle earlier that day. It was barely distinguishable from her fantasies and dreams of the day when Link would accept the armor she had crafted, and would come to Zora’s Domain to spend the rest of his days with her. But it was still there. Even if she had only ever fixated on the thoughts of swimming in the countless lakes of her homeland with him, and basking in the happiness she had always pictured them having.

She had never talked to him, about how she felt. The prospect had been too daunting; the few times she faced her feelings in front of him, she would grow bashful, stammering like a starstruck child whenever his attention landed on her.

She had never asked him how he felt about her.

She pressed her forehead gently back down to Revali’s neck, while her face grew hot overtop his feathers.

What a fool she had been, with all the assumptions she had made.

Maybe one day, this would be something she could look back upon and laugh at. Perhaps she would even muster the courage she hadn’t been able to draw up, and tell Link about this. 

He wouldn’t return her feelings. But maybe it would still be a way to bring them closer; if not as lovers, then as friends.

She so dearly missed being his friend.

“Have you…ever considered another possibility?”

Slowly, Mipha removed her face from the cover of Revali’s feathers, to peer at his face from over his shoulder.

His attention remained unusually focused on the world beneath them, despite the question he had posited. Despite her gaze fixing solely on him.

Her eyes followed the line of his stare, and she realized that beside them both, she could barely make out the deep verdant hills of Upper Zorana. They were flying low over the earth, keeping in line with the hills sloping gently skyward to form a natural barrier which prevented her from seeing the capital city of her people.

Quietly, she wondered what Revali thought of it, on the few occasions he had come to the domain. She hoped he had appreciated the gentle beauty; it was vastly different from the timeless expanse of snow he was familiar with, likely just as foreign to him as the Hebra mountains had been to her. The thought was just barely conscious enough for her to realize its presence.

“I think so.”

Her fingers barely twitched in the indigo feathers they were buried in; Revali’s smooth motions stuttered at her touch. Her hold tightened on the straps she held, unconsciously trying to steady herself against the sudden shifting in his otherwise balanced flight.

Mipha laid her cheek over his neck, and gave no further clarification. She didn’t think she was capable of doing so. Her own words confused her, just as much as they likely did for Revali. They had fallen out unbidden, with no thought given to their meaning; with no thought given to what other possibilities she had considered.

The prospect of confronting that notion unnerved her, and set her heart beating at an unsteady pace within her chest. Beneath her, she focused on how Revali slowly returned back to the gentle flaps of his wings and the gliding motions as he carefully balanced atop the invisible currents which she had discerned twisted throughout the air, the premise of them similar to the rivers and the ocean she was familiar with.

Her heartbeat wasn’t settling back down, as her eyes traced the one wing she could see as Revali flapped in even intervals. Despite the cold air they flew within, she felt warmer than she had from the spicy elixir he had gifted her, once upon a time. She didn’t know what to make of that phenomenon, which set her blood aflame at the touch of his feathers; so instead, she peered out across the place she had called home for all her life.

The waterfall which fell out of Toto Lake and into the top of the Akkala Falls glistened in the late afternoon sunshine, with orange light reflecting softly off its surface. As she and Revali neared the shimmering water, she could just barely make out their reflection in the thundering falls, a wavering image of deep indigo and scarlet red imprinting into her memory.

Her eyes traced up the the remaining edge of the waterfall to where the lake’s river cascaded out into the open air, framed on either side by tall cliffs. 

If Revali would angle himself only slightly higher, she knew that just beyond the lake, they would be able to see the azure tail of the sculpture which watched over her capital city from atop her father’s throne room.

As she stared at where she knew her home to be, a thought occurred to her.

“Would you like to rest in Zora’s Domain, for a little while?” she asked, shortly after she considered the realization. Her voice was carried off on the breeze, soft and quiet as a dove, but she trusted that Revali would hear her.

The only indication he gave to show that he had was a single, small twitch of his head.

His braids rustled against her face, the soft length of the feathers brushing over her skin with ghost-like pressure.

“I’m sure the…princess will be expecting us,” he said.

Mipha wasn’t sure if she had heard the uneasy, awkward hesitation in his voice, as he referenced the girl whom she had walked out on, just that morning. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed so unlike him. She likely only imagined it.

They were past Toto Lake by the time he had spoken, and were quickly coming up on the point where Upper Zorana curved to the left and away from them, encircling her country in its high cliffs. She turned her face to rest her chin on the junction of his shoulder; it was becoming too difficult for her tender muscles to hold her head up.

“I would like to repay you for helping me today,” she said quietly, “Helping you rest is the least I can do. I’m sure a written report will suffice until we can return to the castle.” 

_Until I can return to the castle_ , was what she had meant to say, but the pronouns became switched somewhere between her mind and her throat, where she eventually insinuated that Revali could stay in her homeland for as long as she did.

Mipha wasn’t opposed to the idea, however.

Perhaps, once she was capable of walking on her own again, she could give him a tour of the surrounding landscape, something she hadn’t been able to do when the Champions had visited the capital for the spring festival. 

She liked the idea of it; hopefully, Revali would agree to it.

Wordlessly, Revali came to a gentle stop, and they remained in line with the point where the cliffs disappeared from their side and left them directly parallel with Akkala Citadel on their right side, where it rose prominently out of the earth. 

He hovered as he thought over what she had offered, and in the silence Mipha allowed herself to be lulled by the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders beneath her face.

“I suppose it’s better than going straight to the castle, anyways,” he sighed. Mipha stifled a small smile into his feathers, which grew wider when she felt him shiver beneath her. She wondered if he had felt the grin on her lips. It was a thought that was counterproductive to her efforts in making her heartbeat settle back into a normal place. 

She separated herself from the idea when Revali continued to speak. “I would rather clean this grime off of me sooner rather than later.”

“I’m sure,” she agreed easily, and eyed the clean lines of his wings as he tilted towards the direction of Zora’s Domain, and angled his body for them to rise higher into the deepening orange sky.

Once they had sufficiently gained enough altitude, Mipha shut her eyes against the wind. Revali’s movements made her head rise and fall in steady swells while she continued to rest her chin in the junction between his neck and shoulder, but he hadn’t yet made a noise of protest against her presence, and she was exhausted. Moving her head now seemed impossible. She was, in addition, simply too comfortable.

A deep sigh left her, as they remained in silence for a few minutes. The further Revali flew, the louder the steady thrum of the waterfalls grew, as though the waters themselves were announcing her presence, and welcoming her back home.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She hoped the brief, quiet words encompassed everything she was thanking him for; the way he had endured her mourning, the help he had offered after she had nearly thrown her life at the mercy of a Lynel, and the gentle comfort which, before today, she never would have guessed him to be capable of.

It wasn’t something she had experienced before the Champions’ visit to Rito Village; but she quite liked this softer side of him. And as they continued forward in silence, following her short display of gratitude, she realized wanted to witness more of it. She wanted to see sides of Revali he hadn’t expressed to anyone else.

She wanted to see more of that golden heart she knew he hid away.

A quiet part of her tired mind began to wonder if, with him coming to stay in Zora’s Domain for the foreseeable future, she would get to see it come to the surface more frequently.

It felt like a secret he had made only her privy to. Her heart pounded to think of what else she could come to learn about him.

Mipha felt Revali’s head tilt in front of her, and she didn’t bother to hide a shudder as the long feathers on the side of his face brushed against the open expanse of her forehead.

“You’re welcome, Mipha.”


End file.
